


Home

by OpusEye



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, F/M, Family Dynamics, Fluff and Angst, Infidelity, Married Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 10:14:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15117254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpusEye/pseuds/OpusEye
Summary: A series of ten one-shots about the married life of John and Esme Shelby.For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death did them part.





	1. The Wedding

Esme remembered the clear morning when she got married to John.

The mist still clung to the grass where the Lee family was camped out, everything smelling of fresh rain and greenery. She inhaled the scent deep into her lungs, trying to memorise the freshness that only came with living out in the wild.

Esme was not stupid.

She may have not been educated and didn't read much, but she understood the way things worked around here. She was not clueless like some of the girls in the encampment. She knew what their kin did. Esme knew the exact reason why she'd have to be married off to one of them Blinders. There was a war brewing and the gypsies always settled it the old-fashioned way.

Marriage. Union, whatever the fuck people called it. At the end of the day, Esme she knew she'd have to be fucking one of them city boys.

Normally, the wild, crazy girls were always given away in marriages like that. It was like picking off the bad shrubs. And in this situation, Esme was the bad shrub. She'd sneaked around too much. Got too curious. At some point, she even went into the city alone, looking at the way normal people lived their lives. One of her kin caught her sneaking about and got her into trouble. After all, to see an unmarried, young girl out and about by herself was a complete fucking embarrassment. So, now she would be given away like some bloody cow at a fair.

 _Fun-fucking-tactic_ , she thought to herself as they were putting her into the dress and securing the veil.

“Now don't you worry your head now, Esme,", her mother said in Romani, “Aunt Lee wouldn't pick you some man off the side of the road. She'll make sure he's respectable. He'll take care of you,".

Esme didn't say anything. She knew she'd have to get married sooner or later but she didn't know it would have to be so bloody early. She has barely lived twenty winters yet.

She just gave her mother an annoyed glance before she stepped out to the clearing. As Esme walked down to the aisle, she saw figures upon figures of her kin. As she came to the end of the aisle, she knelt beside a figure of a man she saw through the veil. He was tall and broad that she'd give him. At least she wasn't being traded with a stick.

When he pulled her veil away, she was quite pleasantly surprised and saw that he was too. The poor boy probably wasn't expecting a good deal from the gypsies. But, Esme, a good deal she fucking was. To be fair, though, he wasn't so bad himself.

When Johnny read out the vows, she discovered her new husband’s name was John. He looked a little cocky, a little brutish, but it was nothing Esme couldn't handle. To top it off, he was one good snogger, as she discovered after they read out their vows.

Esme decided she liked him.

Later, when they were seated by each other at the table, he squeezed her knee, calling to her attention, looking at her with those pretty blue eyes.

“Tell me ‘bout yourself, Esme Lee”, he prompted, letting out a chuckle, lighting a cigar and offering her the other one. She accepted it, puffing out smoke nervously as she thought what she could say to her new bloody husband.

“It ain't Lee no more. Remember? I fucking married you. I'm a bloody Shelby now”, she reminded, earning another amused chuckle when he considered her as if sizing up his meal,“But as for me, I'm the niece of the Queen of the Lees. Married me to you so that I would stop nosing around and sneaking about like a dog. Name’s Esme, twenty this year, at least lest I remember. I can cook and wash and shit. So, you ain't gotta worry about that”.

John stroked her cheek, his thumb brushing up against her cheekbone. He looked even more attractive up close. More rugged, more real. Just the way Esme liked it.

“ It ain't me that's gonna do the worrying, sweetheart. My first wife died of influenza. Got four kids leftover. Needed me a mother for them so that's why I got married. But, looking at you now”, he gave Esme a once over again, smirking as he did so, “ If I’d seen you before, wouldn't need much convincing”.

Esme would've been a tiny bit embarrassed had she not been so surprised. Four bloody kids. Four tiny shrieking banshees that go around asking for tit and milk. For someone who looked so bloody young, John sure was fucking virile.

“ So, you mean to say I'll be a mother now?”, she asked him in shock.

John nodded, taking a drag of his cigar.

“ Afraid so, dear. We got a maid and all but doing them normal mum things is your job now”, he said as he cocked his head.

Esme felt shock continue rolling through her in waves. Respectable man, her ass. Her clan meant to lock her up in a house full of fucking children to stop her from sneaking off.

“ Fuck”, she exhaled.

John patted her cheek playfully as he laughed heartily, the sound of his laughter vibrating through her chest. She couldn't help but let out a little smile. Just by smiling, he has somehow made the future look a little less shitty.

“ C’mon then, wife, looks like they’re calling us up for a dance”, he hollered as the crowd continued cheering and then quietly, leaning into her ear, he whispered, “Let’s get this over with this quick, shall we? The bed your aunt prepared is waiting for us”.

She nodded and broke out into a dance with him, laughter filling the whole clearing. 

Shame that they didn't get to use that be though because just five minutes after, John's sister, Ada, was going into labour. Esme swore that she saw John swear disappointedly when he realised that he'd have to drive Esme to Shall Heath to help with the birth. She still smiled at that well into the night as she thought of her wedding, her new husband, and a new life that she got to witness arriving.


	2. The New Family

Esme quickly realised something when she became a part of John’s household. 

It was that sitting with other people’s children came nowhere close to the hell that was having children of your own.

“ Charlotte!”, she shouted from downstairs to John’s eldest daughter, “Come and get Andrew, Katie and Georgie for dinner! Be quick!”.

“ But Esme!”, the girl whined back, “ We’re playing a game”.

Esme sighed in exhaustion.

It’s been like this for the past month. John being out with the boys during the day, fucking her at night and then leaving her with his litter of children. It’s not that she despised them. She wasn’t like those evil stepmothers they showed in the pictures. She grew with a stepmother herself, one who didn’t give no fuck if the child came out of her or not. So, she considered all John’s children, her children. But as charming as they were sometimes, they sucked the life out of Esme.

“Lottie, for the last damn time, you can finish the game any other time”, she exclaimed as she moved to the dining room. 

Esme was still unused to living in a house. Sure, it seemed like a novelty for the first two weeks, but it left her a little suffocated if anything. There were two maids ‘round the house, Tara, an old hag who did nothing but complain under her breath, and Catriona, a Scottish nanny who did nothing but gossip. They were her only company during the day. Apart from the children, of course.

Esme sighed even deeper. 

And as if summoned from hell itself, they all came in piling through the door, fighting amongst each other. Lottie kept trying to break up Georgie and Andrew, who fought like bloody cockerels, too much like their dad. 

Andrew was the eldest boy and probably the most like John. He was a sweet one, but loud and aggressive, not much self-control either. Esme had the hardest time with him.

His sister, Lottie, was older than him by a year and she, at least according to Tara, was most like her mother, Martha. Lottie was responsible and clear-headed, always keeping her siblings in check, if not with a bit of shouting. 

Georgie was younger than Andrew by two years and he was the most reserved. He enjoyed the books more than any of the children and, admittedly, more than Esme herself. But, he was always for one bloody fight, being the Shelby boy that he was.

Katie was the youngest one, younger than Georgie by three years. She ran around a lot, always with something dirty on her face and that huge smile of hers that Esme always saw after Katie did something wrong. She was only two years old yet already, she went around like a fucking tank, crushing every vase that Esme put in her way.

When Esme came in, they were all dirty faced and tattered. She suspected they would be since there was no woman to tell the maids how the things needed to be done. But soon enough, she straightened them out. She made them clean, got John to buy them new books and toys and even took them to the barber’s. Yet still, she felt as if she was barely holding it together. 

“ Esme?”, little Katie asked as she climbed onto her lap, her big, blue eyes so much like John’s, “When is Dad coming back home?”.

Esme’s heart squeezed as she looked at the little girl. She couldn’t blame her for asking. John was barely ever home. He was always out on business and when he wasn’t, he was out in the pub doing God knows what. Days when he was home were always the best. He’d take the boys to play ball and then he’d pinch the girls’ cheeks, lifting them up in the air and singing bawdy songs with them. Esme wished she could make the kids feel half as happy as John did.

She stroked the girls’ cheeks, cajoling her in her arms, hoping it provided any kind of comfort.

“Listen here, Katie, alright? Dad… Dad’s not going to be home a lot. Especially now that I’m here. He counts on me to look after you lot”, she said to the girl softly as she ran her fingers through her hair. 

She felt little arms hug her from behind as she said those words and she instantly knew it was little Georgie from the giggles. The rest of the kids had their Dad’s loud, obnoxious laughter. Esme smiled a little it despite herself and gestured for Lottie and Andrew to join in on the hug, gathering them all up like pups.

“ To top it off, there’s going to be more of you now”, Esme said as she stroked her belly, “ Just don’t tell Dad yet, eh? Should wait for the right moment”.

The children laughed, hugging her even tighter. Esme felt her heart warm and for once, she didn’t feel foreign in this home. She felt as if she belonged. She felt like she was part of the family.


	3. Jealousy

After hearing about how bored she was at home, John quickly got around to getting her employed at the Shelby Company Limited. It wasn’t what she asked for but he insisted.  _ Tommy’s orders,  _ he said,  _ It’s a Shelby tradition. Family employs family. Unless you’re fucking Ada, of course.  _ Another one of John’s reasons was that now, she was pregnant. He wanted to keep her in his sights and out of the stress and noise of the children. 

Esme just went along with, but more for the curiosity of it, rather than whatever the fuck John was feeling all protective about. She barely looked like she was pregnant, anyway.

So, for a week now, she’s been going up every morning to the company. Even then, though, John found enough trouble on his head that he barely stuck his head through the door. The time he did, though, was really the most convenient, she’d have to bloody hand him that.

“ Ain’t you a pretty little gypsy thing?”, said one of the customers that she was handing out the tickets to. It was a slow day and there were six or so people at the company, which Esme was suddenly bummed about, when usually she’d be cheering. The man looked at her wrong, the way that Esme learned meant that a man was going to fuck up your life real hard.

“ Get fucking moving along or the pretty little gypsy thing will smack that smile off your fucking face”, she warned him, giving her best ‘ don’t bloody mess with me’ stare she learned from her brothers.

Usually, Esme didn’t mind a little cheeky smile to get the sales moving, but she wasn’t in the bloody mood that day. The man would have to piss off, otherwise she wouldn’t be responsible for the shit she spewed.

“Ah come on, girl. Ain’t a young thing like lookin’ for some fun? I can take you to a nice pub after work, get you a glass or something”, the man pressed on, leaning over the table.

Esme sighed in deeply.

Fucking men with their fucking cocks. Never a shred of common sense when it came to women and what they wanted.

“ Listen here, you fucker, I’m bloody married. Ain’t going fucking nowhere with you after work. I’ve got shit to sort. Now, piss the fuck off”, she said as she shooed him with her hands. 

The other men that worked at the company started looking in her direction, their gazes filling with a warning. Obviously, they all knew better than fucking with a Shelby. Even a half-assed Shelby.

“ Leave her, Reed. You ain’t got no business with her”, one of the bookies said, shaking his head as he looked down.

The man suddenly looked angry. He looked around the room, his face beginning to color in red.

“ Ah come on! Can’t have a little fun to me self? You all acting as if this gypsy whore is God on fucking Earth!”, he hollered, picking up his hat, ready to leave.

His screaming was followed by a deafening silence as the door shut behind John and Arthur, both looking righteously furious.  But, John, he was right down boiling, his face contorting into a scary grimace. Esme immediately felt proud.  _ Good,  _ she thought to herself,  _ He should be fucking angry for me. _

“ Who the fuck did you call a gypsy whore, you fucker?”, John said as he picked the man up against the wall and pointed a gun on his head, “ That is my fucking wife, you bloody bastard. Should’ve known fucking better before you spewed your shit”.

The man immediately looked a thousandfold more afraid, his eyes widening by a fraction.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Shelby. If only I’d known. I wouldn’t dare, Mr. Shelby, wouldn’t dare…”, he tried excusing himself.

But, John wouldn’t hear it. Without a moment of hesitation, John dragged the man through the backdoor by the collar as he screamed and thrashed in his hold. Soon enough, Esme began hearing screams and pleas from the man. She smiled to herself and continued doing the work, ignoring the incredulous stares from the other workers at the company.

Soon enough, the whole town of Birmingham rung with just one message: “Nobody fucks with John Shelby’s new wife”. 


	4. The Other Woman

Esme and John argued their fair share, all right.

They weren't like all them other couples that walked around with looney eyes for each other. In fact, Esme even doubted that even John loved her. Which drove her to start all these arguments with him.

Usually they were all about the usual things. Him going out and getting back drunk all the time. Her nagging him about little, nonsignificant (according to his wrong fucking opinion) things. They had some about where the business was going. Majority about her wanting to ride out into the wild and him wanting to stay.

Pretty much all of them ended with her saying she'll sleep in the guest bedroom and then him sneaking into said guest bedroom to fuck her. Not that she complained really. It was really as close as Esme got sometimes about him confessing in needing her in his bed.

But, this argument was worse than all the other ones they had. It happened around the time they started expanding out into London when John left with Tommy and the boys to start their so-called operation. She greeted him with open arms when he got back home, despite her reluctance of the expansion. She always thought that John never belonged at that side of the tracks. Esme was afraid that he would let that life consume him. That it would steal him from her.

But, she said nothing when he came back. She put on a smile on her face, which she barely did these days with the kids, and acted as if her heart wasn't being torn when he was so far from her.

Later, though, her demeanour came to a complete and utter crash. She was cleaning up after the mess John made and she picked up his shirt, straightening it over only to still. The collar of the otherwise immaculately white shirt had a stain of bright red on it. Esme brought the shirt closer to her nose and smelled it. Perfume.

Esme didn't wear red lipstick and she never would or on perfume that smelled as sickly sweet as that one did. She put her hands to her head, gripping her hair, trying to not a breakdown.

She heard the door click behind her and saw John, in all his bastard fucking glory, smiling like a bloody idiot.

“ You fucking bastard!”, she screamed as she began clawing at him, her eyes beginning to well with tears, “You bastard, I fucking trusted you! I trusted you!”.

“Esme!”, he yelled over her shouting, grabbing her wrists, bringing her up against a wall, “ What the fuck are you on about Esme? Are you out of your fucking mind?”.

Esme didn't stop thrashing and her tears continued rolling down her cheeks. She suddenly felt as if she was being trapped in a cage, with nowhere to move. Nowhere to go.

She took a shaky breath, trying to come to her senses.

“ I saw the lipstick stain. I smelt her perfume on your shirt, John. The nasty, sweet shit only these London whores would wear”, she hissed into his face, watching realisation dawn over him.

She nodded, the wicked part of her wanting to see him regret. Wanting to see him come to his knees and beg for her forgiveness.

“ Esme”, he breathed out, “ I swear by God, Esme, that it won't happen again. It won't happen again, Esme”.

She started sobbing when he said that, her body bending over from the force of it. She softened in John’s grip, falling to the floor. He kneeled down beside her, taking her face into his hands.

“ I should've known you would do this. I should've guessed. After me giving birth to Eddie, of fucking course you would run into the arms of the first whore who opens up to you”, Esme choked out, watching John’s face contort in a painful grimace, “ Go to fucking hell, John Shelby”.

With those words, she stood up and walked off, grabbing the nearest bottle of whiskey and taking a huge swig. She walked up to the guest bedroom, ignoring Tara and Catriona’s questioning eyes as she locked herself in. For the next few hours, she chugged the whiskey as she cried herself into sleep, which didn't come upon her no matter how much she drank. 

Esme just kept thinking of what kind of girl John would be sleeping with. If she looked better than her. If she was better fuck. He did want to marry a whore before he was coerced into marrying Esme. What would stop him from getting attached to another one?

Thoughts like that followed her through the night.

Eventually, when it was nearly one in the morning, she heard the door crack open. Esme didn't turn around to look at who it was but she didn't shoo away no one either. She stayed facing the wall, her eyes fixed into the unfathomable distance. Strong arms wrapped her waist, pulling Esme closer into the chest that she for sure knew was John’s.

“ I'm not in the mood for a fuck, John, piss off”, she whispered into the night, sniffling.

Arms around her tightened and John buried his face in her shoulder, inhaling her scent. Tears started gathering again, causing to curse under her breath.

“ I didn't come for a fuck, Esme. I came here because you're my wife and I sleep easier with you by my side. Even when I'm away from you, it don't feel the same. Better when I can hear your heart beating”, he said as he brought his hand over her chest, “ right here”.

Esme’s form still racked in sobs, to the point where she was shaking, having to tighten her jaw to stop it from trembling.

“ I love you, Esme”, he whispered into her ear, kissing the shell of it, “ Hear me? I love you”.

John turned her around so that she would face him and then he cupped her face in his hands, looking at her. She tried to fight his grip, looking away.

“ I hate you”, she sobbed, “ I fucking hate you, John Shelby”.

“ No, you don't”, he replied hoarsely, his fingers unraveling the braid behind her, “ You love me. You love same as I love you. That woman, she didn't matter. She will never matter. You matter, Esme. You will always matter”.

Esme answered by putting her arms around neck, entangling her legs with his. He did the same, pulling her close to him, to the point where she could hear his heartbeat. She fell asleep like that, in his arms, forgetting just a for a night who they were and what they did.


	5. Rom with Rom

 

Working side to side by Lizzie Stark was less awkward than Esme expected it to be.

When John first told her that Lizzie would be working at the company as a secretary, she was a little wary. John and Lizzie loved each other at some point. Obviously, John more than Lizzie since he had been ready to marry her and she betrayed him for a fuck with Tommy. Esme still felt insecure about whether John really wanted her in his life. And Lizzie just made her feel even worse.

They just talked business, her and Lizzie. Never even touched the topic of the embarrassing past. Esme preferred it to stay that way. She didn’t want to hear about how her workmate fucked her husband into wanting to marry her. Some things needed to stay untouched.

Lizzie obviously forgot that one night they all went to the Garrison for a drink. All the girls got together to get a drink down in the pub, dragging Esme in with them. Even Grace was there, to everyone surprise, since she has gotten so high and mighty since giving birth to Tommy’s son. Esme had a little too much to drink, to the point where her English started sounding more Romani than anything. 

She was sitting in the corner, nursing her glass of whiskey, looking blankly into the distance when Lizzie sat down beside her. Esme gave her a look and then continued looking blankly to the spot above the bar, her eyes unfocused. She didn’t pay her no mind, too busy thinking if she was seeing double.

“ I know you don’t like me, Esme”, Lizzie said a moment later.

“ Shut it, Lizzie, now’s not the fucking time”, she replied, about to take another swig of the whiskey, only to be taken away from her by Lizzie.

Esme tried to fight her, but found that she was unable to, simply rolling back down to the cushions, rolling her eyes at Lizzie’s antics.

“ I don’t fucking hate you but I don’t bloody like you, either, that’s for sure”, Esme said as she looked into Lizzie’s blue eyes, “ The boys might have forgotten the wrong you’ve done John. But I won’t forget. I won’t forget that you lied to him, that you betrayed him”.

Lizzie shifted in her seat uncomfortably, looking away in embarrassment.

Esme remembered how John told her about Lizzie when they were laying in bed together. His eyelashes lowered when he talked about her, his eyes filling with a frustration of sort. An embarrassment. Esme couldn’t help but be angry, knowing that all he wanted was a wife and a mother. It was Lizzie who should’ve been embarrassed for doing what she did.

“I don’t want us to have bad blood, Esme”, Lizzie said as she lit a cigarette, looking a little jittery and nervous, “ You’re a good wife to John. I respect you and I respect him”.

Esme took her time to think about what she said as she watched the smoke dissipate in their stuffy pub. 

“ You really think I'm a good wife to him?”, she asked her a little hesitantly.

Lizzie smiled a brushed one of her curls away, looking kind and understanding. There was a pain behind her eyes too, hidden like smoke in the darkness.

“ I think, he won't admit it, but you're all he's ever wanted after Martha. You take care of the kids. You don't judge him. You love him”, she said softly, “I couldn't have done half of what you're doing”.

Esme looked at Lizzie for a long time. She remembered her stepmother telling her that bitterness was like drinking your poison and expecting someone else to die. She was always one for taking the high road, letting go off all past hurt. It was her family’s way. It was the gypsy way.

Esme patted Lizzie’s back, smiling gently. 

“ Gadje with gadje, Rom with Rom”, she said to Lizzie, who looked a little bemused if not confused.

“ What does that mean?”, she asked Esme, taking a sip of the whiskey she took from Esme earlier.

Esme twirled her hair and the jingles in her ears, looking outside the window. She dreamed of the great outdoor for a minute. Of riding out into the wild where strange spirits hid behind the mists. All of a sudden, she felt like crying.

“ You go with your people, Lizzie, and gypsies will go with their own”, she said sadly, looking across the pub and catching John’s eyes, the color of clear lakes that the Lees visited down every summer, “ Gypsy goes with gypsy”.

As soon as she said that, John pushed through the crowd, his eyes at Lizzie’s, a wordless question on his face. Lizzie nodded and John picked Esme up in his arms, causing her to thrash and start hitting his chest. It was no use though. With John being that much bigger than Esme, she never really could fight him much.

“ Alright then, love, think you've had a little too much, haven't you?”, he said as he dragged her out of the pub in his arms, “ Let’s go home then. Come on”.

Esme didn't fight him anymore, softening in his arms and curling up to his chest, listening to the laughter vibrate through him.

As much as she had a gypsy heart and soul, she couldn't help but feel her heart tighten every time John said  _ home.  _ Esme reminded herself that she did have a home. No matter where she went, how far she traveled, her heart would stay at home, it would stay with John.

“ My home is with you”, she mumbled to John in Romani, jabbing her finger in John’s chest“ My home is with you, John Shelby”.

“ I know”, he replied in the language, smiling as if the sun was lit from within him,“ Let’s go home then”.

And so they went, the breeze blowing through the cold Birmingham streets.


	6. The Christmas Dinner

Esme’s relationship with the rest of the Shelby family has always been uncertain. She couldn't call them  _ her  _ family. They always kept her out at the edges. They never trusted her. She was still a Lee to them. Still the girl that were forced to take in to keep the peace between the clans.

It also didn't help that Esme couldn't keep her mouth shut. John always sighed in exasperation when she started going at it with Tommy with always the same expression of ‘look what you've fucking done’ directed at his family. He, better than anyone in the family, knew that firing up Esme was like throwing fire into gasoline. Someone was about to be burned.

Now, she didn't hate the whole family. 

To start off, she respected Polly. That woman knew how to keep it fucking tight and running. Even they had their spats then and there, they always could sit down over a glass of whiskey and complain about the men in their family. 

Then, there was Ada. The times that she did come over to Birmingham, she was always nice to Esme, courtesy of Esme helping her with her birth. They had their tea together, Ada talking shit about the cockneys and Esme talking shit on the family. They had a good laugh together on the boys as well. It seemed to be the only thing the Shelby women bonded over. Hating the Shelby men.

Finn was a nice one though. He sometimes walked her back home when John wasn't there since the Shelbys didn't trust anyone but family with family. Finn asked her a lot about Romani since he wasn't around for when their mother was alive to teach them. Esme took up that role, teaching him the basics as she cooked the pies for the kids. They would later sit together over said pie with the children, all of them crowding on Finn as if he was Jesus himself.

Her and Arthur got along alright but since he was the target of her epic glares after John came back drunk in the morning, their relationship didn't go above and beyond. He always called her ‘sister’ and pinched her cheeks like she was a little girl, in response to which she usually snapped at him. Sometimes, she had drag his ass back home along with John’s, especially before Linda arrived into his life.

As for her and Tommy, there was nothing clarify. She hated his guts. He walked around looking all high and mighty, ready for yet another quest, always chasing dreams that others did not share. He forgot that his family had voices, the selfish, egotistical little fucking bastard he was.

Grace was even worse. She couldn't stand the little bitch. Everyone, but Esme and Polly seemed to forget that she stabbed the family in the back. Everyone seemed to forget that she sneaked around with Thomas while still married, driving her poor bloody husband to suicide. But, now, oh now, she was Ms. Queen of Birmingham. Nobody said a word to her while she had Tommy’s cock in her hands.

Linda, she wouldn't even talk about. That religious bollocks never got to Esme. It all just seemed too intense to her. She tried to stay away from Linda. She felt like the bitch would drag Esme to church anytime.

That was the family she had. The family she was going to have till the end of her days. And as much as she hated to admit it, apart from fucking hating them all a little bit, she bloody loved them all a little bit too. 

It was Christmas Day when they all gathered at Tommy’s new house, the big ol’ one that he snagged off some gambling bastard.  The kids were watched by the maids in the separate room and everyone gathered ‘round the fire after Christmas dinner. Esme sat on John’s lap in the armchair, a champagne flute in her hands. She even dressed up nice, although not as nice as the snake Grace did, wearing her pink silk dress like some fucking London socialite.

“ To our family!”, Polly raised her glass, her eyes scanning each person in the room, “ To the Shelbys!”.

“ The Shelbys”, everybody echoed, their glass up in the air.

John was already barely standing from all that whiskey that he, Arthur and Tommy sipped on quietly through the dinner. He kept bloody feeling her up through her dress, whispering fucking nonsense into her ear.

“ Ms. Burgess, Mrs. Shelby”, the maid, Mary, said as she came in, “ Charles and Edward, they keep crying. I can't get them to stop. They've been crying bloody murder for the past hour. Edward’s been calling for you, Mrs. Shelby”.

Esme immediately stood up, as did Grace, each catching the other’s eye across the room.

“ Ah come, Mary! Don't tear me wife from me on Christmas Eve. She hasn't given me my present yet!”, John hollered as he cackled along with Arthur.

Esme narrowed her eyes at him, stomping on his leg with her heel.

“ Shut the fuck up, John”, she hissed as she started towards the door, and then mumbled under her breath, “ Gosh, after all the fucking work I do for his children. Ungrateful bloody bastard”.

Her and Grace rushed to the nursery where Eddie and Charlie slept (and shouted the whole fucking house down). The boys were crying, screeching, red-faced and puffed up.

“ My boy”, she cooed to her son, picking him up,“ My precious one. Hurts, doesn't it? Getting your teeth cutting through”.

Grace turned to look at her with Charlie crying in her hands. Esme looked at the boy and then at Mary, gesturing for her to come closer.

“ Mary, fetch a chewing toy for Eddie and wrap Charlie up in a blanket. He won't stop crying unless you wrap him, you dumbass”.

Mary did as Esme bid, quickly rushing around and getting Eddie the toy which calmed him down, and swaddling Charlie in a blanket. Esme looked around satisfied and kissed her son’s cheek, her heart oozing out with love from him.

“ How… how did you know why they were crying?”, Grace said as they left the room, looking a little startled, “Mary, she's a certified nanny. She knows how these things are done”.

Esme smiled a little, walking down the corridor a little slower.

“ She didn't have a child now did she?”, she said ironically, “ I have five of them, Grace. If there is anyone you should ask for stuff with them kids, you should come to me”.

Grace stopped in her tracks, looking at Esme a little incredulously. Light flickered above them, lighting up her startled expression.

“ But, I thought you hated me”, she choked out.

“ Family is family, Grace”, she said as she patted the taller blonde’s back, “ And as much as I fucking dislike you, I ain't gonna do nothing about it. You're family now. Forever”.

Grace smiled a little as Esme said that, looking a little amused if anything.

“ Tommy makes you out to be so aggressive and harsh, but you're really not, are you? You're all soft and loving deep inside”, she noted as she giggled a little.

“ Shut up, Grace”, Esme replied, even as she smiled through all that, “ Soft and loving my arse”.

The ladies came in to the living room once again but Esme couldn't even take a bloody step in before John swooped her up into his arms and started taking her to the bedroom.

“ John! John, what in the bloody hell are you doing?!”, she screamed, laughing, as he dragged up the stairs.

“ Getting my Christmas present”, he answered back, taking her into the bedroom and shutting it behind them.

It was safe to say that John was satisfied with his Christmas present, at least judging by the huge smile he wore on the Christmas morning that sent Finn and Arthur cackling like hyenas over the table.


	7. The Great Outdoors

 

Esme woke up quite often in the night during her pregnancy.

She didn't sleep well since she found out she was pregnant again. She kept dreaming of the future, of her children, all six of them living in this enclosed city, choking on the smoke. She dreamt of green fields and wildflowers. Of running through the fields at the speed of light, laughing as the hills echoed her voice back to her.

Esme couldn't take it one day. 

She left the house in the middle of the night to go out into their small little yard, enclosed, with nowhere to look at apart from the houses around them. She felt as she was gonna suffocate in this dirty city. She fell down to her knees crying, clutching her belly, hugging her baby closer to her.

“ Esme”, she heard behind her, “ Esme, come on now, what are you doing out here so late?”.

John was standing by the door leading to their backyard, looking around sleepily, a gun that he kept beside the bed in his hands. Esme couldn't help but feel a little bitter, knowing that everyone in this city, including her husband, trusted nobody. When she travelled with her family, there was no such thing as wariness. People didn't steal from each other. They didn't hurt each other. But, this city… this city corrupted them all.

“ I can't do this anymore, John”, she cried, tears streaming down her face, “ I can't live like this. I feel like an animal in a cage, John. I can't live like this”.

John gathered her in his arms, holding her to his chest, kissing her hair. She cried into his chest, hating herself for showing so much weakness. For letting herself go so quick.

“ How about we ride into the country for a day or two, what do you think?”, he asked her, “ The Lees are on the Black Patch right now. We can come down to them. We’ll take the car. Bring the children with us. Your dad can give us one of them vardos that you travel in”.

Esme nodded, hugging him, mumbling ‘thank you’s into his shirt. He shushed her, gathering her in his arms and taking her back into bed, where he rubbed her belly as he slept, as if afraid she'd run from him. 

The next morning, they gathered all their stuff and the children’s stuff and got themselves into a car and drove down to the countryside. It was an hour drive to the Black Patch, where Esme’s family camped out. 

John kept tapping his fingers on the wheel, looking around nervously. She assured him that it would be alright. That he had nothing to worry about. 

“ Didn't you tell me that your mum use to take you out to travel for a month or two when you were kids?”, she asked him after he kept drumming his fingers on the console, receiving a nod in return, “ You've got nothing to worry about, John, you've got it in your blood. You're one of us”.

John didn't say anything. The kids were sleeping in the back, apart from little Eddie, who sat quietly as he stared out into the landscape. He was like that, her little Eddie. Quiet, contemplative. Nothing like John or Esme.

“ I brought you out, Esme, because I know how you feel. I know what it feels like to be trapped. Back in the war”, he took a shape inhale, “Back in the war, there was nothing but mud and blood and bones strewn around us. Wherever I looked, there was emptiness. Death. A part of me died when I was out there, Esme. A part of me is still dead”.

Esme clutched his hand, looking out in the distance and feeling her blood sing at the sight of the wide, green fields. Then, she looked back to John, who tightened his hold on her hand.

“ John”, she said softly, “ Just because we will travel for two days doesn't mean that I'll leave you. I know you think I'll leave you. I know that's why you've been afraid to go. You think that if I take a breath of this life, I won't be able to let go. But, you're my husband, the father of my children. I will never leave you. Ever”.

John smiled at that, giving her a quick peck before continuing to drive, looking a little less nervous now. When they arrived, Esme’s kin greeted them warmly, taking them to the two vardos that were provided for their family. One for John, Esme, Eddie and Katie and the second for the elder children. 

Esme and John decided that they'd drag out their beds out in the open to give more room for Eddie and Katie. They watched the stars, talking to each other more than they talked to each other in the past few months. John told her more about the war, about the nights of terror when he didn't even know if he'd survive. He told her about Martha, his first wife. She was a nurse, he said, two years or so older than him. A good woman, a woman of virtue, he said. They talked about their future, too. About taking the kids out to travel a bit longer when things settled. They talked about their kid, how John wished it was a girl since he wanted more girls in the family to begin with. 

Esme slowly starting falling asleep talking to him, listening to the crickets in the distance, watching the stars above flicker their light back at them.

“ I know you feel it, John. The gypsy in you, alive only when you're out in the open like this. No homes, no enclosures. As rootless as a soaring eagle”, she whispered as she lay on his chest.

John stroked her hair gently, the arm around her waist tighter. She could almost hear him smiling, that goofy little smile of his.

“ Aye, I'm alive alright. Don't need no gypsy blood to feel it, Esme”, he replied back, his voice lulling Esme into sleep.

They fell asleep together like that. Out in the great open with the stars and crickets as company, listening to the beat of each other’s hearts.


	8. Do you love her?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter is from John's perspective, taking place during 03x05

 

Getting into the criminal side of things had always been natural to John.

Growing up with a conman as a father didn't leave him with a lot of proper examples. The Shelbys didn't do proper. Because, at the end of the day, they all understood that doing things proper never got you anything. Being in Birmingham, surrounded by all them factories, just made them see it clearer than everybody else.

But, then, he got a family. He got Martha. 

She was that one lovely girl down the street that all the boys whistled at. She was their neighbourhood beauty. John liked her since he was barely a man, more of a boy, and he let it be known pretty clearly. Martha refused him at first but soon, she caved in pretty quickly.

They got their first child by accident.  John was barely eighteen then but Martha didn't want to get rid of it. She was a church girl, she got herself to thinking that she'd burn in hell if she did that to her baby. So, John dragged her to the church and married her first thing the week after she told him.

Babies just kept coming out after that.

But, John never really understood what it was like to be responsible for them. Martha did all that parenting stuff. He provided, kissed their cheeks, and went off to goof around. Martha stayed at home, taking care of the kids.

Then, came the war. While he was out there, fighting, Martha was taken from them. According to her mum, she got influenza during the winter and died, leaving him with four children on his own.

So, when Esme came along, he was more relieved if anything. Being a travelling gypsy, she knew well how to take care of kids. She was young and fresh if not with some feist. She was a good wife. Loyal, dedicated and hard-working. John wouldn't ask for more.

He hadn't realised he loved her until she gave birth to Eddie. She had that bloody look on her face. That look of absolute happiness as if she was lit from within. John, only then, realised that he wanted her in his life forever, as aggressive and screechy as she could be sometimes. 

Esme and Martha, the only women he loved his whole life, couldn't have been more different, yet somehow they were similar. They were both fiercely protective of their family. They both loved without restraint, till the very end. 

And John loved them back just as fiercely for it.

“ John boy”, Arthur called him on their way back from Wilderness House, the Russians’ crazy estate, “Do you really love your Esme then?”.

John looked back at Arthur with his eyebrows raised, a mocking smile on his face. Arthur had been quiet since they returned, the guilt visibly eating away at him. Since fucking that Russian whore, he obviously thought of Linda, his little nun that waited back at home.

“ What the fuck are you talking about, Arthur? Are you out of your fucking mind?”, John shouted as he cackled, hitting the console of the car.

Tommy didn't say anything, the cigarette in between his teeth. Arthur growled in frustration, going back to staring out of the window.

“ You go around with all these whores, John, while your wife is waiting pregnant back at home. No guilt, no remorse. I was just wondering if you really love her,", Arthur mumbled, his brows furrowed.

John sighed, thinking about Arthur’s question seriously this time.

“ Of course I fucking love her. I don't love no whore like I love her. But, Esme stays in the separate world from them. She stays at home. Don’t drag her name into this shit, Arthur”, he replied with an irritant tinge in his voice. 

Tommy and Arthur looked at him a little funny and then Arthur, scoffing, returning to sulking by the window. 

“ Esme is a good woman”, Tommy said all of the sudden, shocking John, “ She is a good woman, John. So, don't go around with whores out in the open, John. She’ll leave you and then you will regret it. Try and keep her”.

John considered Tommy’s voice, the strain on his jaw. He thought of how his brother lost Grace. How different he was since then. John imagined losing Esme like that and he felt like something was about to be ripped out. He considered Tommy’s words and nodded.

The sun came out from beneath the hills and illuminated their road as they drove through the fields. John, after a tiring night, wanted nothing but come back home. Back to his children. Back to his wife.

No matter how far he strayed, he would always go crawling back to his family. 

Back home.


	9. The Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has major spoilers for 04x02. Proceed with caution.

 

Time seemed to slow down as Esme watched John get shot.

She felt as if everything was frozen. 

She remembered the exact moment she saw his spirit leave his body, his eyes turning glassy in an instant. Esme didn't think she cried as much as she did that day. She cried for hours until she felt as if she had been hollowed out. She stayed by his dead body for hours, unable to look at anything else. Her throat was hoarse from screaming, her body exhausted.

It was only later, when they came to get his body, did she move from her crouching position. The moment she stood up, she knew, she knew that she couldn't live like this anymore. She couldn't come back to their house without seeing traces of John everywhere. Couldn't make the children stay here, where their father had been used and murdered thanks to his own family. 

So, she told the maids to gather all their things, and she told them to call Johnny Doggs to bring them vardos that would take them to her family. 

It all happened so quickly. 

Within a day, everything was packed, and the children were all in the vardos, crying as hard as Esme did after watching John get shot. She kissed their cheeks and wiped their tears, telling them that it would be alright. That they would be safe with her family now. That there would be nothing to fear.

But, Esme couldn't think. She couldn't even breathe. She felt as if her lungs collapsed within themselves. She kept thinking of John’s face, of his laugh vibrating through his chest. Of his eyes, blue like clear lakes. She kept remembering how gently he touched her in the night. How he smiled when he first saw the faces of Eddie and Maya, his eyes as if lit from within.

She felt hatred burning bright and burning within her towards the Shelbys because of all that. For taking John away from her. For forcing him to stay when his heart wasn't in it. For keeping him their loyal little soldier, only to sacrifice him when the threat came.

Most of all, she blamed Tommy.

And it was that hatred that couldn't make her stay for all the gold in the world. She left as soon as she saw John and took his rings, which she wore on her neck, closer to her heart. 

They went on the road with the Lees, her kin, and slowly, months later, Esme started smiling again. Her wounds started closing up. She didn't look for John in the crowds anymore. She felt more at peace now, more at ease.

Years passed, and she was still on the road. She was happy now. She felt free and alive and she thrived once again. She's been asked for her hand several times now, by different men. Handsome men, rich men, noble men. But, no matter how appealing and good these marriages looked to her, she couldn't look at men the same way anymore. 

Because, her heart, it stayed in that back in that house in Lichfield. It stayed with John. The man she's been forced to marry but ended up falling for, anyway. The man who she loved so much that she still saw him when the mists were low and times were quiet. 

Even though she was rootless now, and she didn't have no home, her home always remained with John. John was her home, alive or not. And no matter where she went, it would always stay that way.


	10. The Happy Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an alternative ending to the story that I wrote for the sake of my own, poor heart. This one's for everyone that is still in refusal about John.

 

After the whole affair with the Italians, the Shelbys all collectively decided it was high time for a vacation. So, the whole family, including Charlie Strong, Curly and Johnny Doggs, all gathered their vardos and travelled down to the coast where the sun shined a little brighter. It took some convincing for Linda, who thought that travelling in ‘wooden carriages’ through the countryside was ‘undignified’, but eventually everyone was on board for it. 

Even Tommy dragged along even if he had no wife or woman to bring with him. Esme even saw him smile as Charles played with the sand. 

The conflict, the war, was officially over between them. They stayed united once again and the whole country now trembled before them. They had all the money and the power, thanks to Tommy, but not without their sacrifices. 

Esme didn’t care about all that either. She wanted to be free, both in spirit and in body. And she finally got what she wanted. 

When they finally arrived to the sea, the sun warmed Esme’s skin. She sat with the kids for a while, enjoying the nice weather. Eventually, as the sun started to set, they started a bonfire, and everyone sat beside it, sharing crazy stories and getting drunk. Esme sat side to side to John, her head resting on his shoulder.

“ John”, she said to her husband, “ You’re not going to be doing that bad business for Tommy again, are you?”.

She looked at him intently as she asked him that, her eyes searching for any hesitation in him.

Since Arthur married Linda, John slowly started taking over that mad dog business for him. It was imprinted into Esme’s mind how he had cried in her arms the night he killed six off those innocent workers. There was humanity in him, Esme knew that if he covered himself in blood for Tommy again, he’d be remorseful for the rest of his life.

“ Tommy talked to all of us boys and he said that we should all work in the company. There is money to be made, Esme”, he explained to her, his eyes flickering in the fire, “ But it’s going to be legitimate this time. I promise you”.

Esme nodded hesitantly as she stroked John’s cheek, her eyes searching for his.

She looked at him and wondered if the baby she was carrying would have his pretty blue eyes like Eddie did. She hoped it would be another daughter. Her first daughter with John, Maya, was too much like Esme in both temper and looks. Maya was all wild hair and wild eyes. She hoped her next child would be more like John. A girl with those blue eyes and freckled cheeks.

She didn’t tell no one though. Since her miscarriage during the whole Changretta vendetta, she was too afraid to say that she was pregnant again. She would bid her time. She’d wait.

“ We are going to have a bright future. We’ll have so much money, Es, it will be more than enough for the kids. You’ll see”, he told her, stroking her her hair than taking her face into his hands and kissing her.

“Aye John!”, screamed Arthur over the cackle of the fire, “Stop snogging your wife and come here, we’re going for a little swim!”.

Arthur stripped bare until he was stark naked and then run into sea, taking Finn, Michael and Tommy (who reluctantly just dipped his toes in the sea and stared into the distance dramatically) with him. 

John laughed and started stripping, following the boys into the cold water, screaming nonsense at the top of his lungs.

Polly, Ada and Linda all joined Esme on her log with drinks, tired, but happy smiles on their faces. They handed Esme one of the drinks and she took it, sipping on it as she watched the men splash in the water like kids.

“Men”, Polly sighed out as she rolled her eyes.

“ Men”, Ada agreed with her own sigh.

Esme smiled at the picture of the whole family. Although she was still not considered a Shelby, not a part of them, she still felt connected to them all. She was comfortable, at ease and for once, she was optimistic about the future. 

“ It is all going to be good now”, Polly said in Romani as she smiled brightly into the future and Esme couldn’t help but agree with her.

It was all going to be good now.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much!


End file.
